It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said 'Bother!' and 'O blow!' and also 'Hang spring-cleaning!' and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat.

------------ Kenneth Grahame

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Moonrise

She rose pale and spotted with nipples and eyes, moored by her hands to the gate of lies, she stood wordless in the rocking boat what she could not say was stuck in her throat.

He reached bloody hands to the sun and gripped and squeezed the ball till it spurted and dripped, and silver lights dribbled on the bay: all of her strength was drabbled away.

“All this is mine, the sun and the sin,breast and feather and beak and skin:all this is mine, mine to collectmine to eat up, mine to infect,”

-- he boasted, and yet could not cross the waterand it came suddenly to the Stream's daughterthat for all of it, he was afraid of her,afraid of the water, afraid of the stir

and fret of the knotting waves;afraid of the tide that sucks into caves,afraid of the mouths that fasten by nightover the eyes and the candlelight.

Unseen in the darkness that spunout of the wounded, withering suna sparrow flickered against the gate,and the sparrow said to her only, “wait.”

His feet clutched the slimy rock,he waded forward and the shockof cold water hurt his mind;cold water unconfined

ate into his ankles and knees;his calves and thighs began to freeze.I only wanted to love you, he saidand from out of his trembling head

came rivers of crawling and biting thingstwitching with mandibles and stings;they poured like tears from his nose and eyes,terrified by the water's rise.

Blinded and emptied he sankand the water boiled for a time and stankand still the sparrow at the gatewhispered only, “Wait. Wait.”

The water grew still and thensuddenly it moved again:lights were flickering there belowfish made of sundrops began to glow

and swirled into a net of light:They rose together, silver bright,and the sparrow said “soon,”and soon up rose the glimmering moon.

Oh my darling, come to shore,clothe yourself, and fear no more,The night is marked now by the sacred runeof the fishy, silver, glimmering moon.